


1-99

by The_Mediocre_Writer



Category: Punch-Out!! (Video Games)
Genre: Boxing & Fisticuffs, Gen, One Shot Collection, What-If
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2019-11-13 18:39:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18036719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Mediocre_Writer/pseuds/The_Mediocre_Writer
Summary: One win, ninety-nine losses. That’s the record of Glass Joe, possibly the worst boxer in WVBA history. Despite his legacy of ineptitude, though, there’s one question nobody can seem to answer: who the hell did he beat?





	1. Bald Bull

The public was about to witness history in the making.

Crowds gathered en masse at the Minor Circuit, hungry to see the newest fight. The day’s starring attraction: the sudden appearance of a newcomer by the name of Bald Bull, a man planning to climb the ranks just like anyone else.

However, what really drew in the crowd was how quickly he was rising to infamy. Interviews from Turkey had spun tales of his borderline dangerous ways of training. Spectators at his first few fights told of his brutality inside the ring. And the first five opponents he had taken down had been rumored to still be in the hospital.

With stories like that, the crowd assumed someone had to either be very brave or very stupid to ever challenge him to a fight. However, there was one person who _was_ : another up-and-comer by the name of Glass Joe.

While the media was much less focused on Glass Joe for the time being, he was still slowly making his way to becoming a media sensation. After all, the ladies were already swooning over his good looks and French accent. He was also nothing but persistent: he had already been in ten fights despite just barely starting out.

Sure, he lost all those fights, but he had to start somewhere, right?

The crowd watched both fighters enter the ring, each with confidence. Glass Joe was the first to arrive, waving cheerfully to the audience as he walked by. At 25, he looked great for his age. His brown eyes shined with life, alert and eager to see what new challenge he’d be facing today. His red hair shone under the lights of the ring, looking as healthy as he was. Although he was on a bit of the skinny side, he was sure time and experience would help him gain a bit more muscle.

Entering the ring, he waved one last time while the audience erupted with applause.

When Bald Bull arrived, though, the arena grew quiet.

Though only 23 years old, Bald Bull exuded an intimidating presence that even people older than him couldn’t attain. The man had certainly lived up to his name. Not only was his head completely shaved, but his mannerisms were just as animalistic as implied. His eyes were beady, practically seeing red just by looking at his opponent. His nose also seemed to be snorting out smoke, blowing the small mustache he was growing in.  

He practically ripped open the ropes of the boxing ring as he entered, causing the referee, the audience, and Glass Joe himself to tremble. This imitation only lasted a moment, though, because Glass Joe quickly regained his senses and punched his two gloves together. The crowd cheered for him.

Just like that, the bell rang and the match officially started.

Glass Joe was the first to make a move, with him throwing two slow hooks at Bald Bull. Thrown off-guard by the lack of speed, the first hit. However, he wised up by the second and blocked it.

Glass Joe still wasn’t done, though. Next came a few jabs, just as slow as the hooks. Bald Bull blocked them, this time without much trouble whatsoever. When that failed, Joe tried a delayed hook or two. Only one went through, with it barely seeming to faze his opponent in the process. Now a bit more impatient, he threw a mix of the two as fast as he could. Yet, no matter what, it didn’t seem like anything was affecting Bull.

With no other choice, Glass Joe moved onto his ultimate attack. His magnum opus. His  _pièce de résistance._

He stepped back.

The audience leaned in, on the edge of their seats while Bald Bull just watched him, confused about what came next.

Joe raised a fist.

The crowd held their breath, ready for the next strike.

Then he shook it in the air, yelling “Vive La France!”

The audience sat back down.

He lunged forward, ready to strike.

What he didn’t expect, though, was a fist as strong as a wrecking ball punching him straight in the chest.

Suddenly the crowd was a _lot_ more interested.

He staggered back, falling to the ground as the referee began counting. Over his voice, the crowd roared.

“1!”

“2!”

“3!”

Before the match could end as quickly as it started, Glass Joe had gotten back up, jaunting towards his opponent with raised fists and a huge smile.

Now it was Bald Bull’s turn.

First came the uppercut, which came out too fast for Glass Joe to dodge. It hit his chin and sent his body leaning backwards from the force. He could almost feel his bones shattering from impact.

Next, he rolled his fists in a circle, keeping a close eye on Glass Joe as he did this. Glass Joe had wisened up, however, and ducked. Unfortunately for him, it was a bit too soon and he was greeted with a fist to the gut. However, he still stayed on his toes.

Then, Bald Bull leaned off to the right, yelling something in Turkish while pumping his fists up and down. Glass Joe saw the attack and tried to counterpunch, but was too late. The force of a speeding truck seemed to hit him yet again, finally landing him on the mat for a second time.

“1!”

“2!”

“3!”

“4!”

“5!”

“6!”

Despite the delay, Glass Joe managed to get back on his feet yet again. However, instead of being wide-eyed and cocky, now he did so begrudgingly.

With one more knockdown guaranteeing another victory, Bald Bull prepared his biggest attack yet, stepping back and beginning to fume.

The crowd went bezerk with hushed whispers. They had heard about this attack before. Every single opponent Bald Bull had faced always got to this point, and every single time they got a bone-shattering uppercut and a first-class trip to the mat. There had been attempts to stop him, with people trying to block him or jab his head before he could lay waste to them. Yet every single time they had failed.

As far as they were concerned, his Bull Charge truly _was_ the ultimate move.

Bald Bull was growing redder by the second, his eyes filled with hatred for his opponent. Glass Joe, however, stumbled back in fear.

He began revving up his attack, running into place and getting ready to slam his opponent once and for all.

Glass Joe couldn’t bear to watch. All he could do was shut his eyes and try blocking his face.

With one final snort, Bald Bull ran at him with full force.

Glass Joe was terrified. By the time the fight was over, he would probably be arriving back to Paris in a body bag.

So, in one final, desperate attack, Glass Joe swung a blind hook and prayed to God that he wouldn’t die.

Then, things grew silent.

At first, he wasn’t sure if he passed away or not. He felt the same bruises as before, but everything seemed to stop around him.

Finally, he opened his eyes to see just what happened.

And what greeted him was Bald Bull lying on the ground, doubled over in pain, surprise, and anger. The referee began counting.

“1!”

“2!”

“3!”

The crowd was shocked, wondering how a fighter like him went down so quickly. 

“4!”

“5!”

“6!”

Glass Joe was frozen in place, his eyes glued on the body he somehow managed to get on the ground.

“7!”

“8!”

Just then, Bald Bull started to get up. Through his pain, only hatred seemed to seep through his eyes. He was ready to tear apart the Frenchman and pay him back for what he just did.

However, the pain was too strong and sent him sprawling back to the floor.

“9!”

“10!”

“Knockout!”

The crowd roared, cheering Glass Joe’s name with excitement. Glass Joe could barely process what just happened, though, until the referee raised his hand. Once he figured it out, he smiled wide, raising his hands in the air in joy.

There it was: his first win. After ten attempts, he had finally done it. He had overthrown a behemoth, one nobody else could ever imagine to battle, all by himself. Through the pain of his wounds seeped confidence. If he could do something like this, then he knew, deep in his heart, that nothing could ever stop him now.


	2. Gabby Jay

Glass Joe sat in the corner of the boxing ring, surveying his surroundings before his opponent arrived. The building the match was being held in was in bad shape, complete with flickering lights, walls with chipped paint, and cracks on the ground barely covered up by the lawn chairs surrounding the ring. Not that he could complain, though, considering he could barely afford setting up a match at all.

Though the fight would begin in a couple of moments, there was hardly any life inside the arena. Only him, the referee, and three judges sitting in the crowd were witnesses to the fight, with even those four looking annoyed just being there. He didn’t complain about this either, as his fights slowly stopped bringing in traction around the time he got his fiftieth loss in a row.

Hell, in any other situation, he wouldn’t be there either. He had long since wrapped up his career, taking his ever-piling losses and what little hope he had of winning into retirement. But somewhere along the way, he had made his biggest mistake: he gained a student.

And today was his final exam.

Before he could continue his thoughts, his opponent sauntered towards the ring. Although he was old and clearly showed his age, the man walked with confidence as a large smile could be seen underneath his bushy grey mustache. Joe couldn’t help but smile along with him. Despite the man being years older than him, his go-getter attitude reminded him of the start of his own career.

As the man entered the ring, he said aloud with confidence “ _Bonjour! Bonjour!_ I am Gabby Jay-”

Mid-sentence, the man tripped over his own two feet, stumbling for a moment but keeping himself from falling on the floor. In that moment, he just let out a small laugh.

He was just like Glass Joe, all right.

Maybe a bit too much.

“Gabby, I changed my mind!” Glass Joe hastily cried out before the match could begin. “I… I still think you need more training.”

Gabby just laughed off his worries, saying “You’re just scared of losing, aren’t you Joe? Besides, what do you think you did the last couple months? Make me weak?”

The metallic _DING_ of the bell stopped Glass Joe from answering that question.

Before he could process what just happened, Gabby Jay had already thrown a few punches at him. Luckily, they were slow enough to dodge. He avoided the hooks with ease, but a right jab landed on his cheekbone with a loud crunch.

“C’mon, Joe, you can put up more of a fight than that! I can handle it!”

But Glass Joe couldn’t do it. He couldn’t fight back. Not because he didn’t think he could, though. In fact, he felt the exact opposite. And the mere fact he could think that about his own student scared him.

Gabby Jay took full advantage of Glass Joe’s weakness. He threw a couple of jabs at him, every single one hitting his abdomen. Though the injuries weren’t as fatal as the opponents Glass Joe had previously faced, he still staggered to the mat anyway.

As the referee began counting, Glass Joe made up his mind: he wasn’t getting back up. If he threw the match, then Gabby Jay could move onto bigger and better things, maybe one day becoming the boxer Glass Joe though he would become in his youth. Meanwhile, Glass Joe could return to his life of early retirement, forever oblivious if he failed Gabby Jay as a teacher or not.

Then he remembered the day Gabby Jay first showed up at his gym. Though he had almost given up on keeping the place open, there Gabby appeared with a stack of euros in his hand. The conversation that took place was as vivid as the day it happened.

“Mister Jay,” he had asked the strange man, “if you don’t mind me asking, why, of all places, did you want to come _here_?”

Gabby Jay shot him a confused look, causing Glass Joe to backpedal.

“It’s just that… there are so many other, more popular gyms you could try training at. Why on Earth would you choose one that's barely staying open?”

“Oh, I don’t care about the condition of the gym. I care about the person who’s teaching me.”

Glass Joe was surprised to say the least. He though back to his career and the many times he had his bones broken or face caved in by a fellow boxer.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me! I watched you all the time on the television during my forties! I dare say you were the best damn boxer in the WVBA!”

_This man is insane._

“Hell, you were such an inspiration that I quit my waitering job just to follow in your footsteps!”  
  
_Yep, this man is clearly insane._

Glass Joe looked down at the currency in his hand, his mind trying to contemplate what to do. However, he made up his mind and thrust the money back to Gabby Jay.

“I’m sorry, but you’re making a huge mistake. Have you even _seen_ my record? I’m ninety-eight losses to nothing. I don’t want you ending up the same way. Please, use the money to get a better trainer. It will probably be worth it.”

For a moment, Gabby Jay glanced at the money. However, he soon looked back up and frowned.

“...I don’t think you understand, Joe. I never said I cared about your record.”  
  
“But… What else is there to care about?”

“Listen. I’ve been watching those fights for ages now. I’ve seen rich Californians, boisterous Canadians, and even a rowdy Italian or two. And all of them had much better records than you. But you know what? None of them ever interested me. All of them lacked what you had.”  
  
“What, a concussion every other fight?”  
  
“No! For them, hitting that mat at least four or five times meant game over. Some of them could even go down once if you knew what you were doing! But you? You’d keep coming back for more. Sure, you’d complain, but you never just stayed down for the count! No matter what, you’d keep it up until you were lying on the ground unconscious!”

Glass Joe was awestruck. He always thought nothing good ever came out of career. All it seemed to be for him was a string of broken dreams and even more broken bones. Hell, that’s why he stopped boxing. Running a failing boxing school was a lot less embarrassing than being a national laughingstock, after all.

But maybe something good had come out of it after all. Or at least, one person saw it.

And now, here he was, ignoring the one thing his only fan had praised him for.

No, he couldn’t give up so easily. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Gabby Jay really _was_ stronger than he was leading himself to believe.

Before the referee could finish, Glass Joe got up. Though a bit nervous, he was ready to fight fair and square.

First, he blocked Gabby Jay’s blows. They were startling simple to avoid so long as he kept an eye on where his hands were positioned. Even then, though, a few slipped through.

“Look at that!” Gabby Jay quipped. “It looks like my training’s paid off after all, coach!”

Glass Joe remained focused, however, and began throwing some hooks of his own. He threw them slower than usual, hoping to see how his student dealt with dodging.

However, to his disappointment, each hit him. Just like his mentor, it was Gabby Jay’s turn to fall to the mat. The referee began apathetically counting yet again.

“1.”

Joe waited, anticipating Gabby Jay’s triumphant rebound.

“2.”

Gabby Jay wasn’t the type to just lay down and take his beatings, right? Surely he’d be up in a couple seconds!

“3.”

But what if he didn’t? What if he _never_ became good enough to pass?

“4.”

_Dear God, please let him be good enough to pass._

“5.”

Glass Joe wondered why he even bothered teaching someone at all. Was he really that desperate for money?

“6.”

He wasn’t good at boxing, so what made him think he’d be any better at teaching it?

“7.”

He might as well give up right here, right now. Hang up his boxing gloves forever and not be allowed to taint any more fighters.

“8.”

No, he couldn’t do that. Gabby Jay said it himself: Glass Joe didn’t give up.

“9.”

He had to improve. Not just for himself, but the people who looked up to him. All _one_ of them.

“10.”

All he needed to do was rebuild his career. It may take a few more losses, but this time, he'd learn from his mistakes. He'd fake the opponent out, throw more punches, anything he could to scrape out a victory. 

But to do that, Glass Joe knew he had to go back to the one job he was familiar with.

He felt nervous, but knew it was what he had to do. Maybe this time, he could actually be a positive role model to a student. Maybe he could even redeem Gabby. When Joe was good enough, he could re-teach him the ropes. He could learn to throw faster hooks. Dodge strange attacks. And maybe, if he was lucky, he could teach him to send his opponents down and out with a- 

“Knockout!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: This chapter was supposed to come first, but the original draft was super freaking long. What you're getting is a footnote version of the final part. In fact, the whole flashback is a snippet from the original draft.


	3. Nick Bruiser

As Nick Bruiser walked into the ring, the crowd cheered just as loudly as ever. People held up signs cheering him on. Photographers lined the seats, eager to watch the title bout about to take place. Even a couple of fellow boxers sat in the audience, both envious and in awe of him.

But he didn’t care.

Being showered with glory wasn’t a new thing in the slightest for him. He was practically the face of the Special Circuit at this point, being swamped with deals to make him more well-known to the rest of the world. His agents had already signed him on for commercials, guest appearances on television shows, and whatever else he was being stringed along with that day. He was even going to be the final boss in an upcoming video game, allowing people who normally couldn’t dream of stealing his title to do so.

None of that mattered to him, though. What he was craving was a challenge. Every boxer that stepped in the ring with him was out for the count within a minute of the first round. Sometimes it would be a knockout. Sometimes it would be a technical knockout. And most of the time it was a predictable mess of a fight and another victory added to his record.

The funnest battle he ever had felt like years ago. It was him against his brother Rick, seeing who could claim the belt as their own. He remembered the crushing blows to the body, the blood that poured from his wounds, and the distant memory of lying on the mat. But through all the sweat, tears, and oaths to never lose to the likes of him, he managed to take the belt as his own.

Ever since, he’d been training hard to keep the title for himself. He wasn’t going to let someone who didn’t deserve it take it away from him. The other boxers he faced had predictable patterns or shiny gimmicks hiding their lack of talent. If he let someone like that ruin his spotless record, he might as well just pack up his things and leave.

Still, every match was a new opportunity. Though his hope was dwindling, a small part of him still clung to the idea of a decent opponent.

As he got closer, he got a better look at his newest foe. The man he was battling looked several years older than him and, like most of his opponents, was much shorter than him. His eyes looked tired, yet darted around the ring as if he was looking for a way out. He slouched nervously, with his red boxing gloves hiding his barely-muscular physique.

The man seemed vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn’t be sure. After all, so many opponents came and went that they all seemed to blend together.

However, it slowly dawned on him just where he had seen this man before.

Months ago, Rick had visited Nick after he finished training and told him of a few fighters he battled. Among the stories of knocking out an Indian magician in three hits and infinitely punching a Spanish bullfighter, he told of the quickest fight he ever won.

“The guy called himself “Gabby Jay”. The man was flimsier than paper and I don’t think it’s because of his age. I’ve once fought a guy who’s seventy-eight and he kicked much more ass than this guy. Anyway, after the fight, I decided to look him up. Maybe to see why he sucked so hard. And you know what I found?”

Nick shrugged.

“Where he learned how to box. Apparently, some hack named Glass Joe decided to open up a boxing school in France. But all old Joe was able to do was steal his money and make him worse. Seriously, I looked up the poor guy and somehow that man’s even worse than the old man! He has zero wins! Not one whatsoever! And somehow the man is still fighting matches! Say, have you ever boxed against him?”

Nick shook his head.

“You sure? He had red hair, bags under the eyes, and a weary expression. Surely you’ve seen him before.”

Nick shook his head once again.

“Figures. Well, I’m sure one of us will eventually. The man has been in more fights than both of us put together. If I get to him first, though, I’ll be sure to introduce the two of you while he’s in the hospital! _Ha ha ha!_ ”

And now here the man was, ready to take another loss. Nick frowned. It looked like it would be another quick battle after all.

The bell rang. As the two stepped into the center of the ring, Nick Bruiser stared down the Frenchman, hoping to intimidate him. It worked, but Glass Joe composed himself and put his dukes up with a frown.

Before even daring to throw a punch of his own, Nick Bruiser decided to play the defensive. All it took was a few attacks from his opposition to learn how they attacked. Maybe his opponent would throw a fast hook that might catch him off-guard for once. Or maybe he would move slowly to try and mess with his reflexes.

While Nick Bruiser stood back and watched, Glass Joe continued to stand there, unsure of what to do. Finally, when he realized his opponent was open for attack, he leaned to the side and tried throwing a hook. Nick dodged with ease.

His suspicions were correct: his attacks were just as lousy as his record. But he still needed to see if there was any potential in Glass Joe. After all, what some of his opponents lacked in opposition they partially made up for in quick reflexes.

So, he swung a hook of his own right at Glass Joe. How would he react? Would he dodge? Counterpunch? Block?

His answer was quickly answered when Glass Joe continued to idle as a fist hit his stomach.

It looked like Rick was right, he really _was_ as terrible as he was made out to be. He was a bit disappointed that he hadn’t met a surprise equal to his skills, but was so used to it that it quickly washed away.

Instead, he put his fists up. It was time to end another fighter’s dreams.

Out came his lightning-fast punches, switching from head attacks to body blows without much pattern to speak of. Unsurprisingly, each of them landed on his opponent. Around halfway into his assault, Glass Joe couldn't take any more, falling to the floor with a thud. 

While the crowd cheered and the referee began counting, Nick began to walk away. There was no way someone as frail as his opponent would get up from that. Putting him out of his misery in the first round was for the best. It was better for him to take his loss now than-

Suddenly, the referee stopped shouting. Confused, Nick turned around to see what had happened.

His opponent had somehow found the strength to change positions from lying on the floor to being on his knees. Though both his arms and legs nearly gave out on him, he made one more push to get back up on his feet. The crowd roared and he smiled to them through missing teeth.

Nick was surprised. How could someone as weak and unskilled as his opponent be able to stand back up so quickly? He expected him to be rushed to the emergency room, not being on his feet and ready for his next beatdown.

But he couldn’t let something so small get to him. He’d just need to put a bit more effort into beating him.

Now that he had barely escaped another defeat, Glass Joe tried a bit harder to fight back. He threw two slow-moving hooks at Nick Bruiser, but each were blocked quickly and without much passion.

Before Glass Joe could get a third attack in, Nick Bruiser backed up for a moment and prepared his next attack. As he did this, the crowd began chatting among themselves about the dashing forearm attack Nick was about to throw. Joe, however, remained frozen and watched with anxiety.

With the same lightning-fast pace as before, Nick began throwing punches to Joe’s head. Despite their speed, Joe was able to dodge the first two that came his way.

Nick felt blood begin to rush to his head. With much more power behind them, he threw four more his way. Fortunately for Nick, all of them hit. However, Joe was still standing.

Next, six hooks came his way. Like almost every other opponent Nick Bruiser had faced up until this point, Glass Joe tried to block the punches when it looked like they were too fast to dodge. Unfortunately, he fell into the same trap as everyone else: his punches were so powerful that he still ended up bruised and battered anyway. Still, Joe stayed on his feet.

But Nick still had one final attack.

From his left, he threw a powerful uppercut in Glass Joe’s direction. If it hit, he knew his opponent would go sprawling to the floor.

But Glass Joe saw the punch coming. In an attempt to protect himself, Glass Joe threw a counterpunch to his face.

And missed.

With a sickening crunch, he was thrown to the floor so hard he nearly hit one of the ring’s posts. Now that his opponent was finally down, Nick Bruiser allowed himself to cool down and wiped the sweat from his face. All he could do now was wait for the inevitable.

“1!”  
  
“2!”

“3!”

“4!”

Glass Joe began to make small movements. Nick Bruiser trembled with anger for a moment, but calmed down when the motions stopped.

“5!”

“6!”

Glass Joe was now trying to get up. Weakly, he managed to lift up part of his torso, looking Nick Bruiser in the eyes with a pained expression. All Nick did, however, was intensely glare at him. Try as Joe might, though, it didn’t last and he crashed back down.

“7!”

“8!”

"9!"

Suddenly, something neither Nick nor the audience anticipated happened: Glass Joe got up. His legs were shaking and he was doused with blood from his injuries, but he stood up, wiped away the blood trickling down his face, and stared down Nick Bruiser

The crowd grew silent. The only sounds that could be heard were the soft plinking of blood as it hit the ground and the footsteps of Nick Bruiser as he approached the boxer.

Though he tried to keep the stoic expression he was known for in the ring, Nick was now shaking with anger. Out of all the opponents to keep getting up, why did it have to be this one? He was the one who was mocked by those who barely knew him. The one who trained others to be just as bad as him. The person with enough defeats that nobody would complain if he just cut his losses and retired. How was _this_ the man who was making a fool out of him?

Without thinking, he threw his dashing forearm attack again. The raw hatred he was feeling had bubbled to the surface, making his punches even faster. He focused on his opponent with bloodshot eyes, gritting his teeth and ready to feel Glass Joe’s bones break beneath his fist.

Despite how battered he was, Glass Joe was now more aware than ever. To Nick Bruiser’s own surprise, he managed to to dodge most of his attacks.The ones that hit, though, hit hard and sent him stumbling back to his corner. Luckily for him, he caught his balance.

Nick Bruiser couldn’t believe what just happened. He didn’t _want_ to. He tried calming down and allowing himself to try again with a clearer head. Once he did, though, the audience’s murmurings started to sound much clearer to him.

“Is Nick Bruiser _mad?_ I’ve never seen him mad before!”

“Did you see that? That French guy dodged like it was nothing! Looks like Bruiser’s anger’s getting the better of him!”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I’m cheering for Glass Joe for once…”

“Is Nick Bruiser feeling alright? Usually his attacks are less predictable than this…”

He froze. It was now obvious to everyone he was rapidly losing control of the situation. He had to stop the fight right then, before he became a bigger laughingstock than the man he was fighting.

Luckily for him, there was still one more move he didn’t try yet.

In one last, desperate attempt to put the match to rest, he climbed up onto the ropes and clutched tightly. All it would take was one haymaker punch and his opponent would instantly be knocked out. He just needed to not screw it up.

He turned his head, glaring at his opponent with raw hatred. His fist trembled as it held onto the rope.

Then he let go.

He launched himself so fast at Glass Joe that he might as well have been flying. His fist raised over his head, eager to feel his body be crushed by them. He couldn’t see anything else around him but his target, locking onto him with bloodshot eyes.

At first, Glass Joe looked like a deer in the headlights. Panic showed in his face as he seemed to wait for his beating.

But as Nick Bruiser got closer, his body seemed to move on his own. He dodged to the right and fell to the floor, quickly getting up afterwards. And the whole time, even he seemed shocked at his own movements.

Nick Bruiser, meanwhile, couldn’t stop his momentum. All he could do was keep moving forward.

And, unfortunately, what now greeted him was the ring post Glass Joe had previously blocked.

With a loud crack, Nick Bruiser landed headfirst into the post. Pain rushed to his head like a bad headache, immobilizing him. Instantly, the world around him grew blurry and disorienting, like he was in the middle if a nightmare he couldn’t escape from.

He fell to the mat.

Through the spinning world, he could barely make out the faces of those around him. The audience seemed in awe, unable to take their eyes off the event that took place. The referee look shocked that he was counting down Nick Bruiser for once. And Glass Joe stood far away from the body, terrified about what came next.

Nick Bruiser tried standing up again. He wouldn’t let his championship be ended by someone like _this_.

He glared at his opponent. There he was, observing him from the opposite corner of the ring. All he was doing was trying to wipe the blood away and watching fretfully, but Nick Bruiser didn’t see that. The only thing he could see was a man staring down his opponent, quiet and heartless about crushing their opposition. A person hungry for the title belt and someone who fought tooth and nail to finally get it.

Just like how _he_ used to be.

As he began to get back off his knees, the dizziness began to worsen. A sharp ringing in his ears deafened him and his surroundings. And he was losing his equilibrium fast.  

Finally, he fell back to the ground and began to black out. The world was moving much slower now. Through the pounding in his ears, he heard a muffled cry from the referee and the incomprehensible chanting of the crowd as his opponent’s arm was raised.

Before he finally lost consciousness, though, he thought one last thing.

It looked like he got his challenge after all.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Out of all the theories of Glass Joe's one win, him getting it from _Nick Bruiser_ of all people is probably my favorite. Something about a weakling like him taking down a final boss is both hilarious and badass to me. [It's also apparently the canon answer, according to Nintendo Power.](https://punchout.fandom.com/wiki/Nick_Bruiser) So, Vive La France indeed!
> 
> Also, to those reading this little description, I have a recommendation for another story you can read: ["One Win" by SSBFreak.](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5281914/1/One-Win) It deals with the same subject matter and has helped influence some of these stories (most notably, the first one). Go give it some love!


	4. Mr. Dream

**FINAL BOSS CAN’T BEAT THE FIRST**

By Matt Inge 

April 1st, 1990

Inside the brightly-illuminated arena of the World Circuit, thousands watch the harrowing battles between starry-eyed challengers and the champions that guard the door to victory. Among the Philadelphian heavyweights and the powerful Californians, though, stands one foe tougher than the rest: Mr. Dream.

Taking the place of the famous Iron Mike after a devastating injury, Mr. Dream shares the legendary boxer’s moveset, including his classic uppercuts and wink punches. Many have tried making it through even one round with this intense foe, but very few have made it.

That is, until April 1st 1990, when Mr. Dream was brought down by the champion of France himself, Glass Joe.

The battle started as any other. Each foe walked into the ring, ready to continue to shape their history as a boxer. Then, the bell sounded.

“The first few seconds of the battle went exactly like they usually do.” Stated famed pugilist Mr. Sandman, who was a witness to the events that night. “Mr. Dream threw a surprise uppercut and the opponent fell like a rock to the mat. I don’t think anyone really expected him to get up at that point. I mean, have you _seen_ Joe’s record?”

Nonetheless, he managed to make it up before the referee could finish counting, with the following minutes of the fight going much smoother. Either due to raw instinct or shaky paranoia, Glass Joe managed to avoid Mr. Dream's attacks for a full minute. Luckily for him, as an honorary custom to challengers, Mr. Dream will stop throwing his all-powerful uppercuts as a reward for making it past the first minute or so of the fight. The battle was now on more equal footing, even if the champion still had an arsenal of different techniques.

“Dude,” former champion Super Macho Man proclaimed, “the fight became totally crazy after that point! I don’t know what Mr. Dream was on that day, but he went super slow after his minute was up! The challenger dude dodged like it was nothing and got a radical amount of hits in!”

Sure enough, the champion had been worn down so much by Glass Joe’s sudden barrage of attacks that he fell to the floor. With this rare instance of the champ on his knees, the crowd was livelier than ever. However, the dream didn’t last, nor did Mr. Dream’s knockout; he got up before the referee had a chance to get past “2”.

From there, the fight took a turn for the worse for Joe. Amateur fighter Aran Ryan describes the event as such: “The wee moment that ol’ Joe messed up was when Mr. Dream came in for the kill. One blow after another and the poor bugger could hardly stand up! It was so brutal, me and mah buddy’s cheeseburgers nearly fell out of our hands!”

Luckily, Glass Joe’s suffering was soon ended by the sound of the bell. During the few minutes of peace both fighters had, their coaches had a chance to help them recover from their injuries, which was a blessing to our challenger. From there, the two exchanged friendly jabs at each other in their respective languages. Mr. Dream even gave him a quick wink, something that not even the most prestigious challengers get from him.

Once their break was over, the two returned back to their usual positions. Nodding to one another, they began the second round with a triumphant return to form.

“This time,” mentioned the owner of a local disco club, “both fighters were on equal footing from the get-go. Three small punches for Joe, one powerful punch for Mr. Dream. It was like… Like an elaborate dance number!”

This rapid exchange of blows kept going until one of them gave out. Sure enough, it was Glass Joe who couldn’t handle the pressure, hitting the ground and receiving his second knockdown of the fight. Fans waited with bated breath, seeing if he would get up. When he did, they went wild.

A few more punches were dodged on Glass Joe’s end, with Mr. Dream’s movements being like clockwork to him. After dodging what most men would normally be destroyed by, it looked like Mr. Dream had given up. Lowering his guard, he stood perfectly still and blinked rapidly, a sure-fire sign that a barrage of attacks were coming Joe’s way.

But neither had time to find out, because at that moment Glass Joe landed a jab. And, as it turned out, the match-winning blow.

Blinded by this sudden turn of events, Mr. Dream stumbled to the floor. The countdown began. However, he didn’t get back up.

The crowd cheered with a passion only rivaled by Joe's. Not only was this a milestone for the defeated champion, but it also was one for the contender as well: this had been his first win in his whole career, and one that was celebrated in its magnitude.

In light of the Frenchman’s success, Japanese heavyweight Piston Hondo wrote the following message to the head of the WVBA:

それで、我々はただ戦いを通して起こっていたすべての奇妙なことを無視するつもりですか？ Glass Joeが彼を襲うことができるように氏Mr. Dreamは突然減速しましたか？彼らがお互いに与えたウインク？ Joeがパンチするのを待って、ドリーム氏はどうやってそこに立ったのでしょうか。何かが足りないという…

According to his translator Shizukani Iwanaide, this means “It’s with great honor that I was able to watch history in the making. Maybe this sudden victory will usher in a new era of boxers.”

This sudden victory has helped restart Glass Joe’s career, which was waning for the last couple of years. And, even though the blow to his perfect career was devastating, Mr. Dream has remained on good terms with the French boxer.

“He’s a pretty nice boxer, all things considered.” He stated just hours after the fight. “And he’s pretty dedicated to the craft, something I can appreciate. I’m just glad I finally gave him the break he needed.”

Despite this statement, though, there have been rumors of Mr. Dream intending to contact the WMVA and remove the loss from his record. Whether this is truth or speculation has yet to be determined.

In one final piece of news, the duo plan to tour together for charity. This is planned for April 13th, so be on the lookout for more information in the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally intended to not make stories about fighters with perfect records (outside of Nick Bruiser), but I found an article about [Mike Tyson not being able to beat Glass Joe](https://www.hardcoregamer.com/2013/07/27/final-boss-from-punch-out-couldnt-beat-the-first/49616/) and it got me inspired. And because I feel uncomfortable writing about real people, take the canon Tyson knock-off instead!

**Author's Note:**

> A while back, I watched this one video called ["Who Did Glass Joe Beat?"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3fI2h5tk4wo) and it got me thinking the exact same thing. And considering I've been super into the Wii version of Punch-Out as of late, I decided to create some short "what-if" scenarios attempting to think of answers to that very question.


End file.
